In the Dark
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Grace/Joan AU drabble.


**Ok, so I wrote a Grace/Joan drabble; obviously set in a universe where Joan doesn't have a handsome German fiance and where Grace doesn't look like she's about to kiss Roland every five minutes. Don't lie, we've all thought about this at one time or another. **

It would be difficult to say how exactly this happened, or who had made it happen. Well, it was Grace who kissed Joan first, but if asked Grace would insist that there was something there in Joan's eye first- an inviting, a daring glint that defied resistance. Joan Livsey had started something the moment she'd arrived. Grace had always known she'd be trouble, had always known she liked her.

Regardless of who started it, they are both very much engaged now. Grace had felt it the first time they met, they had connected on a mental level. Well, now they were connecting on a physical one too. Little kisses are exchanged, gentle touch of lips on lips and skin, hands wandering over face, down over bodies.

Hands fumble with buttons and hooks in the dark, lift cloth away from skin, trying not to tear it, not really caring, not wanting anything to break this moment. It's not ideal doing this in a tent; they have to be very quiet and they can't turn on any lights in case anyone catches a glimpse of a compromising shadow from outside. It's not ideal, but it's somehow perfect, as Grace finds herself naked and straddling Joan's waist, her hands caressing her neck and collarbone as tenderly as possible.

Perfect, and naked, and somehow absolutely freezing. Well, it is October and they are in a tent. She can see Joan smiling up at her as she notices her shivering.

"Here," she whispers, sitting up a little, pulling her dressing gown off the bedpost and giving it to Grace, "Put this on."

Grace slips it around her shoulders and pulls Joan forwards for another kiss, cupping her face in her hands and then running them up through Joan's short hair. She has always loved her hair, and it's wonderful to tangle her fingers in those tight curls. Joans hands slip inside the untied dressing gown, cupping her breast and slipping her other hand around to trace her spine. Grace moans quietly, spreading her thighs around Joan's hips, resting on her knees as they keep kissing. Joan is not shivering- it must be her thick northern blood keeping her warm- the strokes of her fingers are so delicate and smooth and gentle. It goes without saying that she's done this before, that they have both done this before; they both know what they're doing. Their breasts touch each other and Grace arches her back, her mouth falling open in pleasure, pushing further downwards so that she pushes closer to Joan.

And then she feels Joan's fingers touching her, slipping inside her, beckoning her. She can feel herself begin to lose control and she knows it has to be now. She buries her head against Joan's neck, whimpering, "Please," close enough to her ear for her to be able to hear.

She can feel Joan smiling, feel her hands roaming up and down her back as she parts her legs a little more and tips her pelvis upwards so Grace sinks down further and they are finally touching. Grace straightens her legs out and then wraps them around Joan's waist, so that soft wet labia touch against labia, and they both gasp. Grace clutches Joan's shoulder, pulling them closer together.

"Jesus, sweetheart," Joan mutters a curse, a smile still on her lips, that Grace needs to devour, needs to kiss.

Joan's lips break away from hers, trailing down her neck as they rock together.

"Oh, darling," Grace murmurs.

Joan's mouth is moving further downwards and she throws her head back as her lips latch onto her breasts, feeling herself climax hard and fast. Joan rocks against her a few more times and they collapse together onto the bed, stroking each other's soft skin, the lines of each other's curves, for as long of a rest as they dare to take in the comfort of one another's bodies.

**End.**

**Please review if you have the time, I'd love to know what you think. **


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